Confidence
by bluebottlebutterfly
Summary: Seth hasn’t seen Anna in nearly ten years, but when she shows up at his wedding, her very presence causes him to reevaluate things he’s done, decisions he’s made—and how different his life would be if she had never left. Not a SA.
1. Part I

Confidence 

Summary: Seth hasn't seen Anna in nearly ten years, but when she shows up at his wedding, her very presence causes him to reevaluate things he's done, decisions he's made—and how different his life would be if she had never left. Future fic. But hopefully not too out-there.

Notes: The idea for this came about when I was rewinding "The Goodbye Girl" after it first aired so I could watch it again. As I sat on my floor with my remote in hand, watching Seth press his face against the glass window of the terminal or whatever you want to call it in reverse, I was thinking about how different his relationship with Summer was probably going to be now that he didn't really have anyone to advise him on how to act around her. And that got me thinking, 'Well, what about the other areas of his life?' 

Which proves that I think too much about fictional characters, but what's fanfic for if not for that? 

And that's what this sprung from. __

::shrugs:: So, yeah, that was mostly pointless, but I like hearing about how people think of stories and things, so I thought I'd add that in. Plus it boosts the word count. =) 

**

_"Anna, what am I going to do without you? Who am I going to play Jenga with? And you're so wise, Anna, all your sage wisdom, and…what am I going to do without that?_

_"Confidence, Cohen."_

_~The Goodbye Girl_

**

Part I

**

 Mrs. Roberts is at the bar again. 

 Summer is standing with her arms folded, her jaw set, and her eyes narrowed as she watches her stepmother flirt playfully with the bartender as he mixes her a tequila sunrise. Seth catches Summer's expression and follows her glare. 

 "Oh, come _on," _he says, groaning. "Hasn't she had enough?"

 "Are you kidding?" Summer responds lowly. "She's got to have something to wash down that handful of Valium she's got in her purse." 

  "I'll go cut her off," Seth volunteers, placing a hand on the small of Summer's back in an attempt at comfort for a moment before heading towards the bar. 

  He sits down and smiles pleasantly at Mrs. Roberts, who, possibly due to the extreme amount of alcohol in her system, beams brightly back at him. "Cody!" she exclaims cheerfully, turning to the bartender. "Cody, this is Seth. Seth, this is Cody." 

  Seth realizes that she is actually introducing him to the bartender, as if she wants Seth to be as close friends with Cody as she is. Seth flashes Cody a tight, forced smile before returning to Mrs. Roberts. "Mrs. Roberts," he begins.

 Mrs. Roberts, in the middle of her first sip, waves a hand impatiently. Setting down her glass, she says, "Please, Seth. I'm _Isabel." _

 "Isabel," Seth agrees, starting to grit his teeth, "don't you think that maybe it's about time to turn in? I mean, Mr. Roberts—Neil," he quickly substitutes before Mrs. Roberts can correct him, "went to bed hours ago. And we've got quite a big day ahead of us, don't we now?" 

 Mrs. Roberts looks blank.

 "Your stepdaughter's wedding. The reason we're here, remember?" Seth tells her. 

 Mrs. Roberts laughs her false, tinkly little laugh. "Of course!" she giggles. "Of course, yes, I knew that." She turns back to Cody and says conspiratorially, "Summer, my stepdaughter. She's right over there." She points absently behind her to where Summer is leaning against a column now, looking away in embarrassment when she realizes that they're all looking at her. 

  "Right, that's Summer," Seth tells her. "Now Summer is very excited about tomorrow. She has been spending my money for months on this thing, and it will mean a lot to her if you don't interrupt it every three minutes by throwing up into your purse, okay? So let's put the drink away"—he slides the tequila sunrise across the bar to Cody, who quickly slips it under the bar—"and go to bed. Now how does that sound?"

 Mrs. Roberts frowns. "Where's Neil?" she asks, confusedly. 

 "Neil is upstairs," Seth says patiently, marveling to himself at his composure as he helps Mrs. Roberts to her feet. "Neil, as a matter of fact, is waiting for you in your room. He's been waiting for a long time. So we better get upstairs quick before he falls asleep."

 "Right," Mrs. Roberts agrees seriously, nodding once. "Quick like bunnies." 

 Seth smiles in spite of himself. "Been enjoying that _Queer Eye for the Straight Guy _DVD box set, Isabel?"

  "Hmm?" 

  As he leads her to the elevator, he looks over his shoulder and tosses Summer a short smile, which she returns. Seth turns back to the elevator and pushes the 'up' button, keeping his hand on Mrs. Roberts's shoulder as they wait. 

 About thirty seconds pass before there is a soft little 'ding' and the elevator doors open. Seth ushers Mrs. Roberts into it and follows her in. There is a woman inside, leaning against the wall next to the numbered buttons, her head ducked down. Seth clears his throat and says, "Er, the tenth floor, please."

The woman presses the button, and pauses. She lifts her head and turns to face him, her eyes shining. "Seth?" she gasps. 

 It's Anna. 

 It takes Seth a moment to process this information: _it's Anna. _Anna, who he hasn't seen in, like, ten years; Anna, quite possibly the best friend Seth has ever had, even if she was only around for about six or seven months; Anna, his first real girlfriend—wow. I mean, _wow. _This is really incredible. 

 "What—what are you doing here?" he exclaims, awkwardly leaning over Mrs. Roberts to hug Anna. 

 "What do you think I'm doing here?" she sort of laughs, nervously tucking some of her hair behind her ears. "Let's do some detective work, shall we? It's the weekend of your wedding, which you sent me an invitation to, and we're both in the same place for the first time in ten years." She smiles. "Any guesses yet?"

 Mrs. Roberts, who has been remarkably quiet throughout this exchange, tugs on Seth's sleeve. "Where's Neil?" she asks again, and Seth turns away from Anna. The elevator doors are open, and it's clear that they're on the tenth floor. Before Seth can respond, Isabel irritably continues, "And who is that?"

 "You must be Summer's stepmother," Anna says quickly, smiling pleasantly. "Hi, I'm Anna. I'm one of Seth's friends." 

 "Yeah, well, Isabel needs to get to her husband, so we really must be going…wait for me, Anna?" Seth asks, almost shyly. "I'd really like to talk to you. Catch up, you know? And Summer." He laughs. "Summer will be thrilled to see you, she was really disappointed when you didn't RSVP." 

 Anna smiles tightly. "I'll just bet she was," she says stiffly. "But sure, I'll wait." 

 "Awesome," Seth responds, and leads Mrs. Roberts out of elevator. Anna follows, but doesn't go further than the vending machines that stand, buzzing serenely, at the end of the long hall of doors. Around the corner that the vending machines are positioned at, there is a small glass door that leads to an extremely formal sitting room that is equipped with a mini-mart of sorts and an arcade. It's not an arcade so much as a couple of games (the new, hi-tech ones: Tekken 8, Digital Pac-Man, and some weird shooting game with little point—Seth checked them out when he and Summer had first arrived and had been strongly disappointed), but the mini-mart has liquor in a glass case behind the Formica counter, so it's always busy. 

 When Seth comes back from returning Mrs. Roberts to her husband, Anna is crouched on the ground in front of the Pepsi machine, frowning. "Hard decision?" Seth asks, and she looks up and smiles. 

 "Yeah," she replies. "I already put my money in, but I don't know if I still want anything. Nothing really sounds good." 

 "You could always get a regular Pepsi and spike it with vodka," Seth comments. "Then you and Mrs. Roberts can spend the wedding in the bathroom, puking it up. You could bond. Become great friends. Go on road trips." 

 Anna grins and pushes the little round button next to the picture of Dr. Pepper. As she retrieves her bottle from the slot at the bottom of the machine, she rises and says, "From what Summer told me about her stepmother, she doesn't seem like a very pleasant person." 

 "Oh, no, she is," Seth tells her. "So long as, you know, she's got a few martinis in her. She's even fun when she's drunk sometimes. There was this one time at a hospital benefit or something mundane like that where she got up on the piano and started to sing a Doris Day song, but she forgot the words halfway through. _Hilarious."_ He laughs a little and Anna joins him. "But Summer spazzed, she got really embarrassed. She kinda stalked off to the bathroom and threw this vase of flowers on the floor. She broke the vase, you know, and started swearing really loud, and when I went in there she yelled at me and then started to cry." He realizes that he's said a little too much, and that Anna is watching him interestedly as she very slowly unscrews the white cap off the top of her soda bottle. "So that was fun," he mumbles. 

 "Speaking of Summer," Anna says, "where is she? I haven't seen her. Granted, I just got here, but…" 

 "Oh, she's downstairs at the bar," Seth responds, gratified for the change of subject. "As a matter of fact, she's actually waiting for me. Actually, it's been more than twenty minutes, so she's probably gotten frustrated with me and went up to bed."

 He pushes the 'down' button by the elevator doors and they wait for it, watching the elevator's progress in numbered lights above the doors. 

 "What, no raucous bachelorette parties?" Anna asks, smirking. "No male policemen strippers, hundreds upon hundreds of cosmos and a phallic cake? Summer's a party girl, where's her party?" 

 There is a 'ding' and the elevator doors open. Seth and Anna step inside, and Seth presses the 'lobby' button on the switchboard. "Nah," he laughs, leaning against the gold railing that runs along the wood-paneled walls of the elevator. "We did those before we came here. She didn't tell me what went on in hers, I didn't tell her what went on in mine. But I sincerely hope that there was no phallic cake involved in hers, because, really, who wants to eat a penis?"

 Anna giggles and takes a sip of her Dr. Pepper before screwing the cap back on and slipping it into her purple barrel handbag. "Well, I'd imagine that the heavy coating of buttercream frosting heightens the appeal a bit," she says. 

 "Or there's just a lot of really bitter women at bachelorette parties," Seth says, smiling. 

 This is strange. They have not seen each other in years, but everything—the conversation, the mood—feels as though they just saw each other yesterday. They don't really look that different—sure, Anna's hair is a little longer and a little less blonde, and Seth isn't quite as skinny and gawky as he used to be, but overall, they still look as each other remembers. Their sense of humor is still mainly the same. Anna still wears eccentric clothes and jewelry and a lot of eyeliner. Seth still has his vintage T-shirts and black Converse. 

 But something is still different.

 There are ten years between them.

 "So, we, uh, didn't get your RSVP," Seth comments after a while. "We didn't think you were coming." 

 "I was in London," Anna tells him, adjusting her handbag anxiously. "I only just got the invitation yesterday, because…that's when I got back."

 "And you flew out here today?"

 "Yeah, this morning," Anna says, and she smiles. "Are you kidding? Seth, I still consider you to be one of my best friends. And I hold myself personally responsible for this mess that is you and Summer. I couldn't miss this." Her smile fades a little, but it's still there. "It's your wedding."

 Seth is about to ask her why she was in London when the elevator suddenly starts to shake jerkily. He grips the railing as the elevator comes to a shuddering stop.

 "Oh, my God," he says. 

 Anna frowns and looks around. "I think we're stopped," she says matter-of-factly. 

 "Yeah, you think?" Seth gasps. "Oh, my God, oh, my God…" He slides down the wall and sits on the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. He looks very childlike. 

 "Seth, it's not that bad," Anna says in an attempt to soothe. She taps her fingernails on the metal of the switchboard and adds, "This happens all the time. I've been stuck in an elevator, like, four times, and every time it started up again in less than ten minutes." 

 "Yeah, well, Anna, I've never been stuck in an elevator," Seth snaps, feeling very tetchy all of a sudden. "I'm claustrophobic, we tend to avoid situations like this." 

 Anna bites her lip and sits cross-legged on the floor in front of him, her posture impeccable as usual and her purse in her lap. "I forgot about the claustrophobia thing," she apologizes. 

 "Lucky you," Seth says. 

 "Do you have your cell phone so you could call Summer or something? She could probably get a mechanic or someone for us," Anna suggests. 

 Seth shakes his head. "No, Summer _has _my cell phone," he tells her. "She took it at—at breakfast this morning because she forgot hers in the hotel room and she and Marissa were going to go shopping." 

 "Oh, Marissa's here?" Anna asks, pleased. "I'd been hoping—"

 "Anna, you're missing the point ever so slightly," Seth hisses. He softens his tone when he speaks again. "Don't you have a cell?"

 She draws hers out of her purse and shows him: the battery's dead. 

 "I forgot the charger in my apartment," she says softly. 

 "Can't you go get it?" Seth demands, not really thinking at this point.

 Anna raises her eyebrows. "My apartment being in Pennsylvania, I'd say, no," she responds, seeming to be highly amused with the whole situation.

 Seth starts to rock back and forth.

 "I think you're being a little pathetic," Anna declares.

 Seth glares at her. "I didn't accuse _you _of pathetic when you told me you were afraid of bunk beds."

 Anna tosses her hair. "I've told you this: I believe that if you really want to sleep on a high space all the time, go live on a cliff. And besides, I tend to associate bunk beds with that TV show _Oz, _and that _really_ scared me."

 That makes Seth smile a little, but then he groans. "Oh, my God," he exclaims. "I'm trapped in an elevator, my wedding is in exactly twenty-nine hours, and my fiancé is probably going to, like, break the champagne glasses that are waiting in the hotel room for us in half and stab me with the stems if I _ever get out of here!" _He bangs his fist on the floor for emphasis.

 "Seth," Anna says calmly. "We _will _get out of here. It's just…a matter of time."

 "Yeah, time that I don't have."

**

_…Two Hours Later…_

"I've got spearmint Tic-Tacs," Anna declares, setting them down on the floor in front of her amongst the rest of the stuff that was previously in her purse: four different brands of lip gloss that are all pretty much the same color, her dead cell phone, her checkbook, an empty packet of Winterfresh gum, an eyeliner pencil, a pair of earrings ("I bought them at the airport"), and about twelve crumpled up receipts. Oh, and sixty-two cents in loose change.

 They are playing 'Who's Got Better Stuff On Them', comparing Anna's purse to Seth's wallet. Speaking of Seth, he's feeling quite a bit better, now that Anna's distracting him. He's also downed about three-quarters of her soda, which apparently was of great help. 

 Seth frowns. "Now how can I beat green Tic-Tacs?" he muses, thumbing through the contents of his wallet. "Ah," he says, drawing out his 'Better-Than-Yours' item. "Costco _Gold_," he adds importantly, placing the card neatly in front of him. 

 "Ooh," Anna says, smiling. When they were in school, and it got really boring at lunch or something, they would play this game with their backpacks. And she would always win. Because, let's face it: girls carry better stuff because they _own _better stuff. "Hmm," she mumbles, rummaging through her purse again. "Ooh! A Heath wrapper." She puts the candy bar wrapper on top of the receipts. 

 "Ooh," Seth echoes. "Chocolate and English toffee, that is hard to beat…" He flips through the small set of pictures that he keeps in his wallet. He stops suddenly, and, having made his selection, takes the corresponding photo out of its plastic covering. He holds it between his thumb and index finger and stares at it for a moment or two before setting it on the thick green carpet between them. 

 Anna leans forward to get a closer look at the picture. 

 "Oh," is all she can say. 

 It's her and Seth on the yacht just before the debacle that was Thanksgiving of 2003. They're leaning against the railing, and the wind is blowing their hair so that they look vaguely windswept and…modelish. Seth has his arms looped through the rails, and Anna's hands are in front of her, holding her clutch. It's a good picture; they're both smiling, but not in a way that would suggest that they're uncomfortable. The smiles are natural smiles, smiles that used to come from being in each other's company. 

 "You still have this picture?" 

 "Well, yeah," he mumbles. "I've got a lot of pictures. When we moved in together, Summer started going through my wallet and realized that I didn't have any pictures and she went completely ballistic. She said that it looked like I didn't have any friends if there were places for pictures but no actual pictures in my wallet. So she went through the shoeboxes that had all our pictures and picked a few." Seth fingers the photograph. "That was, like, the first one she picked."

 Anna looks up, surprised. _"Summer _picked this picture?"

 "Yeah," Seth responds. "She doesn't hate you, Anna." 

 "I know she doesn't _hate _me," Anna says. "I just didn't think she liked me very much. And I didn't think she'd want me in a picture that has just you in it." 

 Seth is a little stung by the assessment of his girlfriend. "Why do you say that?"

 "Seth, don't you kinda feel like maybe she's just inviting me to this wedding to finalize the fact that she won? That after I moved away everything was just so much better?"

 "After you left, things weren't _better," _Seth replies edgily. 

 "Seth, you don't have to say that just because I'm here."

 "I'm not." He pauses, unsure if he should say what he wants to. He decides to just say it. "I missed you." She seems pleased to hear this. "A—a lot."

 She smiles and looks shyly down at her lap. "I missed you, too," she tells him. "I kinda missed everything, actually. I missed my parents, I missed the stores, I missed the school tuna melts, I missed… a lot of things. But it really was better for me, moving." She sighs. "Because I only missed Newport—I mean, _really _missed it-- for about a month. I had been missing Pittsburgh the whole time I was in California." 

 "I missed you for about a year," Seth responds quietly. 

 Anna looks up and meets his eyes. They smile at each other--a weird, secret sort of smile. 

 "Did you ever think about coming back?" Seth asks softly. "I mean, not just to visit?"

 Anna thinks before answering. "Sometimes," she says slowly, "when the weather got cold, I'd think, 'If I were in California, I would be wearing a miniskirt and walking down the boardwalk eating ice cream right now'. And I would think about how nice it would be to _be _in California on that boardwalk eating an ice cream, and I would get…distant. I would sort of regress back to summer, and I would think about meeting Marissa, and dancing with Ryan, and watching you follow Summer around, and…I'd miss it." She sighs again, and Anna seems very sad. Seth doesn't know why. That summer was quite easily the best one of his life. "I'd wonder what all of you were doing, and I'd think of calling you—"

 "You should've called."

 "—but I'd back out." Anna pauses and picks up one of the receipts in front of her. She starts to tear it into tiny pieces. "Because I'd wonder what you were doing." She continues to methodically shred the thin paper of the receipt as she talks. "But then my friends would take me to Dingbat's and we'd have hot chocolates and peanut butter pies and they'd let me talk about you and California." She finishes with this receipt and moves onto another. "But eventually I ran out of stories." 

 Seth watches her hands. "You could've made some up." 

 "What?"

 "Stories."

 "Oh." Anna brushes some hair out of her face before she continues with the receipt. "Yeah, but by the time I finished the stories, I was tired of telling them." 

 "Oh," Seth echoes, and he leans back against the wood-paneled wall. He sighs. "After you left, I got real close to Summer. I mean, Ryan was always busy with Marissa—they were always breaking up for some stupid reason and everything would get dramatic and annoying for about a week before they'd get back together—but Summer always listened to me. 'Course, I never had that much to talk about, but whatever I _did _have to say, she wanted to hear about it. And she told me everything."

 Anna smiles a little and reaches for his wallet. Seth doesn't stop her as she opens it and flips through the little section of pictures. There's one of Ryan and Marissa and Summer, sitting on a bench at the pier and sipping sodas. Ryan sits at the very edge, his elbow on the wrought-iron armrest, straw in his mouth. He's looking past Marissa--whose posture is, of course, perfect: she sits straight-backed against the bench, her soda resting on her knee—at Summer, who seems to be talking as usual. 

 Anna removes the picture from its casing and sets it down in front of Seth. "When was this?"

 Seth leans forward and slides the picture towards him a little more. "Um, the summer after senior year, I think. Yeah, that was when Marissa went through her curly-hair phase. I was behind the camera."

 "I figured."

 He grins sheepishly and pushes the picture back to her. She replaces it and takes out the next one. Seth rests his head against the wall again and closes his eyes. This act causes Anna to look down at her watch. It's a little after 11:00.

 "Maybe you should try to sleep," Anna suggests halfheartedly. "You don't want to fall asleep at the altar." 

 He shakes his head, his eyes still closed. "Couldn't sleep if I wanted to." He looks around anxiously and mumbles under his breath, "Walls, you know."

 Anna nods absently and examines the picture. It's of Summer, naturally. It looks to be a fairly recent picture, seeing as how she looks similar to the engagement picture that was sent along with Anna's wedding invitation. Her hair is set in nice little waves and she's wearing some sort of purple top and silver chandelier earrings. It's a professionally taken picture, you can tell that by the pose: she's got her chin propped up in her hand is staring into space dreamily.

Apparently, not only is Summer pretty, she's also ridiculously photogenic.

Anna sucks at taking pictures. Really. Taking pictures is an easy thing: you sit, you smile, you wait for the flash to go off. That's it. But seriously: she sucks at it. Her eyes are always closed (or half-closed, which is worse), her mouth is always open, and everyone else in the picture always looks perfect. Which makes her stand out even more and makes everyone _naturally_ assume that she was _totally high_ when the picture was taken. There are only about ten pictures known to man that she actually looks okay in. 

Anna, the picture still in hand, looks up to share this piece of wisdom (would you call it wisdom? More like a musing, probably) with Seth, but he's asleep. 

He's got his knees drawn up to his chest, and his head is still against the wall, but one of his cheeks is all smushed because the heel of his hand is digging into it. Seth sighs exceptionally loudly, and that makes Anna smile. 

She reaches for his wallet, suddenly eager to view the rest of those pictures. Maybe now he'll shut up about the walls closing in.

**

 

_Seth is walking through a crowd of people in some sort of outdoor arena type place—it looks like a carnival, actually; there are booths everywhere selling fried food and the cheap stuffed animals that smell vaguely of gin—with a red balloon tied to his wrist and blue cotton candy on a stick in his other hand. He thinks he's lost. The people that he keeps pushing past don't look familiar in any way to him. _

_This fact is starting to upset him. Seth is starting to feel like he did when he got lost in Macy's that one time when he was six: scared, of course, but also suddenly tired and a little cold. But this time, there are no Max Azria handbags to hide behind. _

_Seth turns a corner, and standing behind a cotton candy booth, wearing a candy-striper outfit, is Marissa. She is holding an ice cream cone in either hand and standing on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd as if she's looking for someone. _

_Completely relieved to he sees someone he knows, Seth runs up to her. "Hi, Marissa," he says. _

_"Have you seen Anna?" Marissa asks._

_"Last time I saw her, she was ice-skating," Seth responds. "Hey, can I have an ice cream?"_

_Marissa sighs exasperatedly. "You already have cotton candy," she says, rolling her eyes. "Besides, this one's for Anna."_

_"What about the other one?"_

_Marissa glares at him. "It's for me. The wedding's going to be very long, you know. I might get hungry."_

_"Oh," Seth replies. "What wedding?"_

_She sighs again. Marissa seems very irritable. "Yours, you moron."_

_"Oh," Seth says blankly. "Right. My wedding."_

_Ryan, dressed in a powder blue tuxedo and top hat, joins Marissa behind the booth. "Still waiting for Anna?" he asks, not even acknowledging Seth._

_"Yes," Marissa tells him._

_"She's always late," Ryan assures her._

_"But it's her wedding," Marissa presses. "She can't just leave Seth up there all by himself. You know how he handles rejection."_

_"He doesn't handle rejection."_

_"Exactly," she says wisely. _

_"What about Summer?" Seth pipes up. _

_Both Marissa and Ryan turn their attentions to him, looking very curious._

_"Don't be stupid," Marissa says bluntly. "Summer's in Constantinople."_

_Seth blinks. "What? Why? I don't even think that's a place anymore."_

**

"Seth? Seth. Seth, wake up." 

Someone is shaking his shoulder, and that annoys him. He doesn't like being shaken for any reason. "Stop," he mumbles. 

"Well, wake up, then."

He opens his eyes and there are five more people in the elevator than he remembers: Ryan (who appears to be the one who was shaking him), his mother, his father, Marissa, and Summer (she looks kind of relieved—did she think he'd taken off on her or something?). He is suddenly embarrassed and quickly rises. 

"Oh, hey, everyone. Got the, uh, the elevator open?"

"Yes," Anna replies curiously. "You didn't feel it?"

"There was an earthquake once," Summer volunteers quietly, pretending to examine her French-manicured nails, "and Seth slept through it."

 Seth feels tension. 

 He doesn't like tension, especially when he doesn't understand why it's there. He doesn't like when he doesn't understand anything, come to that. "Hi, Sum," he says. "Shouldn't you be in bed? It's, like…"

"Midnight," his mother supplies.

"It's like midnight," Seth repeats. "Don't you have to be up early to do your hair and stuff?"

"You didn't come up," Summer replies simply. "I didn't know where you were." 

"I was stuck in an elevator," he tells her plaintively.

That merits a very small smile. "Well, if I'd've known that, I wouldn't've been so worried. I was just a little nervous at the fact that I'd sort of misplaced my groom, you know? Big problem the night before a wedding."

 "You didn't misplace me, per se," Seth responds. "I kind of misplaced myself." 

 "Seth," his father says, and Seth turns his attention to him. "Are you okay? Do you want to maybe get out of the elevator?"

  "That sounds awesome." Seth rises to his feet awkwardly, his knees a little weak after sitting down for, like, three hours. "I should probably, uh, get to sleep, you know?" 

 "Sure," Kirsten says. "Well, good night everyone. Sandy?" 

 "Yeah." Seth's father claps him once on the shoulder. "Enough excitement for one night?"

 "I think so," Seth responds, smiling dimly. 

 "Good. Now go to sleep." He turns to Summer, who is standing off to the side a little. "Summer, keep an eye on him." He gives her a hug, and she smiles softly at him.

 "I will," she says.

 "Good," Sandy repeats, and he puts a hand on Kirsten's shoulder, and they depart. 

 It's just Seth, Summer, Marissa, Ryan, and Anna now. Ryan and Marissa are flanking Summer, and Anna is clutching her purse and looking at the floor. Seth is in the middle. And he's really uncomfortable. But also extremely glad to be out of the elevator. 

 "Summer, it's really nice to see you," Anna pipes up quietly. 

 "You, too," Summer responds politely, but she's staring at the floor. 

 "Right," Seth mumbles, extremely uncomfortable. "Right, well, Summer? You want to, uh, go up?" 

 "Sure," Summer says. She turns and starts to head in the opposite direction. 

 Seth waves good-bye to Anna, Marissa, and Ryan. He catches up to Summer and says, "Where are you going?"

 "The stairs," she replies shortly, pushing open a white door with a picture of a stairwell on it. He follows her, a little confused.

 "Summer, what's the matter?" 

 She pauses on the third step, gripping the railing. "I'm just tired," Summer intones dully, continuing up the stairs. 

 "'Just tired'?" he echoes. 

 "Yes, Cohen," Summer snaps. "I haven't been to sleep in twenty-six hours, so yes, I'm a little worn out." 

 It clicks. "Summer," Seth says slowly. 

 "What, Cohen?" Summer steps up onto the landing before the next set of steps, turning cleanly on the toes of her purple Chanel heels. 

 "Are you mad because I was with Anna for, like, three hours without your supervision?"

 Summer scoffs irritably, tossing her hair. "As if. Cohen, I'm not sixteen anymore." 

 He bites his lip to keep from laughing. "So?"

 _"So, _I'm not as catty and petty as I was then," she says, still not facing him. "I'm just surprised to see her here. She didn't RSVP or anything, which is _totally _going to mess up the seating arrangements and the dinner, and she didn't bring a date, which messes things up even _more, _and I think she's going to have to sit with my Stepmonster because I specifically didn't put anyone next to her because I wouldn't wish that on any of my friends or yours, so she's probably going to have to listen to stories about her and my dad's sex life, and no one wants that, and—"

 Seth knows Summer has been spending too much time with him now for sure: she's rambling like he does. He takes two giant steps up to her and grips her elbow. "Summer," he says softly, "Anna doesn't mind sitting next to your stepmother, I'm sure."

 "Oh, sure, she says that _now_," Summer replies sourly. "But wait until Isabel's offering to put crushed up tryptophan in her champagne. You know, for that added 'zing'."

 "I thought we already agreed that your dad was to check your stepmother's bag before the wedding even started? You know, just in case?"

 "We did, but she'll find a way!" Summer exclaims dramatically. "'Oh, Neil, just the Valium, please?' 'I promise I'll only have _one _drink, Neil, one _little, tiny _drink.' 'Summer won't mind if I do a table dance with a bottle of merlot, she told me so!'" 

 Seth is instantly alarmed. "You think she'll do that?"

 "Oh, come on, Seth!" Summer cries. "She does it _all the time. _Don't you remember that time she smuggled that bottle of gin into Disneyland?!_" _

Seth grips Summer's arms, because she seems to be getting a little hysterical. "Summer," he says. "It's going to be fine, okay? It's going to better than fine. It's going to be perfect."

  "What if she OD's?" Summer asks tearfully. "I mean, what if, like, in the middle of the ceremony, she just passes out in the middle of the aisle and breaks out in convulsions?! My dad'll be all like, 'Someone call an ambulance!' and then someone does, and we have to just stand around and wait until the paramedics get there, because no one cares about you and me anymore, they all care about the dead lady in the aisle!"

  "Summer," Seth says, in an attempt to calm her down. She ignores him and plows on.

  "But then once the paramedics get there, she suddenly stops being dead for, like, a second, and everyone's all 'Oh! It's a _miracle_!' and they're like, 'Oh, we'll have to take her in. Then we can probably study her to develop a new drug for people who constantly OD!' and everyone decides to follow along to the hospital, _completely forgetting _about us, and the priest is all like, 'Do you want me to continue or can I go with them?' but we make him marry us first, and he gets all irritated."

  "Summer," Seth tries again, but she still isn't finished.

  "So then we go to the reception hall, but we're the only ones there, and we eat the whole cake by ourselves because we're so depressed, and then I gain, like, thirty pounds because I ate that whole cake and then you're like, 'You know what? You're fat now. I don't think I can love you when you're like this. In fact, I don't even think we should try. Let's get an annulment.' And then I get even _more _depressed and hang myself in my closet with my sheets." She is sobbing now, and the last few sentences have been virtually unintelligible. Summer's knees sort of give out, and she collapses on the cold, painted metal floor, crying hysterically. Seth slides down the wall to join her and runs his fingers through her hair as he waits for her to calm down a little. 

 When her sobs have reduced down to a few quiet sniffles, Seth says, "Summer, it's not going to happen like that." 

  "Yeah-huh," Summer insists.  

  "Why?" 

  "Because Isabel is going to find _some way _to ruin this for me," Summer says fiercely. "And, okay, it might not be _exactly _like that, but if it's not, it'll probably be worse." 

  Seth leans into her and kisses her once; a soft, reassuring little kiss. As he pulls away, he says quietly (while only about two inches away from her face), "Don't worry so much." 

  "I have to worry," she responds. 

  "No, you don't. You need to let me worry enough for both of us." He tucks some of her hair behind her right ear. "Besides, worrying causes premature aging." 

  She knows he's joking, and she smiles. 

  "I will take care of your stepmother, okay?" he promises. 

  Summer sighs. "Okay," she agrees.

   "Okay. Let's go to bed, I'm tired." 

**

 A/N: So ends the first part. It's kind of an introduction of sorts (a really, really long one), and the second and last part will be the wedding, and the actual reevaluation that the summary speaks of. I was originally going to have this be a one-shot, but around the twelfth page I realized that if I was going to do that, I would be in college by the time I finished it. So I decided to break it up: the intro or whatever as the first part, the day of the wedding the second part. 

I'm rambling. I apologize. 

Disclaimer & Notes on Where I Got Stuff: "The OC" and its related entities belong to Fox and Josh Schwartz, not to me. I only own my little tapes of the episodes, which are my prized possessions until the DVD comes out. I used the phrase 'stepmonster', which I stole from the movie _St. Elmo's Fire. _Um…what else….oh, the picture of Seth and Anna on the boat is from the episode "The Perfect Couple". I figured out of all the Newpsie events, that would probably be the one there would be pictures from, seeing as how Marissa had a picture of her and Ryan from that episode on her mantle in "The Links". Seth being claustrophobic comes from "The Countdown"…the excessive use of the word 'like' comes from living in the valley of California, as I do (oh, no, that's a stereotype, my mistake) …and I think that's it. For this chapter. =) 


	2. Part II

Confidence 

**

Notes: Welcome to part two, folks, and thank you v. much for the reviews I received for the first one. The funny thing _about _the reviews was how everyone wanted to know what ship this was. Why does everything have to be a ship? It doesn't, and that's not what this story's about. Well, not _really. _But if you really want to know, I've been a diehard Seth/Summer shipper since episode one. 

**

Part II

**

_"What if the girl I'm supposed to be with just went back to Pittsburgh?"_

_"What if she went back to Chino?"_

_"Why would Anna go to Chino?"_

~'The Goodbye Girl'

**

 Anna sits on the bed in Seth's hotel room, picking the cranberries and almonds out of her muffin and listening to Kirsten, Sandy, Seth, and Ryan talk. She feels as though she is on the outside looking in, and that's okay, because she likes to observe. She fully took a psych class in college, and human mannerisms have always interested her. 

 And as far as humans go, the Cohens (and an Atwood, though Ryan is pretty much a Cohen now in all ways but the last name, which he still refuses to change—not that Sandy or Kirsten would ever presume to force him to. Besides—he's legal now, and has been for quite a while) are more fascinating than most. They are incredibly funny, and Anna has always felt like she is watching a sitcom when she listens to them talk.

 "I'm telling you, Mom," Seth is insisting to Kirsten from where he sits cross-legged on the dresser, right next to the TV, "I could eat a whole basket of these mini-muffins without even breaking a sweat, okay? These things are, like, the size of a pencil eraser." 

 "Seth, you will throw up all over Summer if you eat more than four of those," Kirsten smiles patiently.

 "They're the size of a bug, Mom. A _ladybug._"

 "Seth." 

 "An amoeba. A bulimic wouldn't even bother to throw these up."

 "Seth, please don't eat that whole basket," Kirsten says, starting to get worried. "You know you have a weak stomach—"

 Seth seems to take offense at this. "I don't have anything even _resembling _a weak stomach."

 Ryan coughs something that sounds like, "Disneyland."

 Anna is curious. "Disneyland?" she pipes up. "What—what happened at Disneyland?"

"Um, Ryan and Marissa got caught making out topless in our hotel room," Seth responds.

 Sandy starts to snicker. Ryan glares in that wannabe Clint Eastwood way. Anna has almost forgotten this look, and that fact startles her. That glowering-out-of-the-corner-of-my-eye look is, like, what makes Ryan _Ryan. _She forgot that? _How _could she forget that? She and Seth used to whisper about that glare. Stuff like the probability of his eyes getting stuck that way. How much it probably hurt to look at people like that after a while. How Ryan probably had an uncorrectable eye deficiency that pained him to talk about or something and that was the only way he was physically able to look at you.  

 "That's not even what I meant," Ryan says, almost smiling. "What I _meant _was when you ate a churro—_one _churro—and threw up in the middle of the teacup ride." 

 "On my shoes," Sandy adds. 

 "Okay, Anna, don't listen to them," Seth says loudly, setting down the cinnamon apple mini-muffin he has been eating (his third). "There are several things you have to understand about the Disneyland trip, okay? One, we went in _June, _which everyone knows is when my allergies are at their worst. Two, I had just caught Ryan and Marissa making out topless in our hotel room. Those things coupled with the churro—which I _still _think was poisoned—and the incessant _spinning _of the ride caused me to throw up." He glares significantly at his mother. _"Not _my weak stomach—because I don't have one." Seth pauses. "And Dad, as for your shoes, that was unintentional. I was aiming for Mom's purse." 

 Kirsten reacts to this with a gasp. "You are _not _telling me that you intended to throw up in my purse!" she exclaims. 

 "Better your purse than my lap." 

 "Or my lap," Ryan agrees.

 Kirsten sighs, smiling still. Noticing the time she exclaims, "Seth, it's ten thirty!" 

 Seth glances at the clock on the bedside table across the room. "Yeah," he says. "So?"

 "The wedding's at two," Kirsten reminds him. 

 "Still not seeing the point here," Seth says pleasantly. He starts in on his fourth muffin, a banana nut one from the looks of it. 

 "You should get ready," she prods patiently. "You have a lot to do."

 Seth raises his eyebrows as he pops a walnut in his mouth. "Mom, I've put on a tuxedo so many times I can do it in, like, three minutes with my eyes closed." 

 Kirsten keeps her blue eyes, sparking with humor and maternity, on her son's. "Humor me," she says wryly. 

 "Fine," Seth responds, moving aside the basket of mini-muffins and sliding off the dresser. 

 "I should be going, too," Anna says, standing. "Marissa invited me to help Summer get ready, and I'm guessing I've already missed out on the free manicures, so…" 

 "Oh, you're going to go see Summer?" Seth asks, his expression brightening. 

 "Yeah," Anna replies softly. "Do you, um, want me to tell her anything or…?"

 Seth avoids everyone's eyes and looks down at his shoes, blushing. "Nah," he mumbles. "No, it's okay."

 Anna is somewhat relieved, and she doesn't know why. She ignores it, and turns to Sandy, Kirsten, and Ryan, who are all still sitting down. "Bye," she says, forcing a smile. "Thanks for breakfast."

 "Anytime," Sandy says. "Have a good time with Summer."

 "Sure," Anna replies. She exits the room and takes the elevator to the eleventh floor, where Marissa's room is located. She stands in front of the hotel room, listening to the giggling (softened somewhat by the door separating Anna and the girls inside) and chattering going on inside and trying to bring herself to go inside. She doesn't know why it's taking her so long. To be frank, she doesn't even know why she's here.  Anna knows that Marissa only invited her to have something to say last night, but she wants to go. On some level. 

 "Hey!" 

 Anna jumps at the sound of Marissa's voice and turns in the direction of it. Marissa, dressed in a pair of light blue terrycloth pants and a matching short-sleeved jacket, is coming towards her from the direction of the elevator. She has her purse over her shoulder and is carrying an insanely large bottle of hairspray. 

 "You came!" Marissa says emphatically, moving the hairspray under her arm so she can get into her purse and look for her key to the room. "Awesome. We're just starting to do hair in there, so you came at a good time." 

  Anna guesses that the overuse of the word 'awesome' comes from spending so much time around Seth, because when she lived in Newport, she never heard Marissa say anything more enthusiastic than 'cool' and 'good'. "Um, yeah," Anna tells her, "I just had breakfast with the Cohens, so sorry I'm…late…or whatever." She smiles, a small smile that's barely a smile at all, and not really necessary at that, because Marissa is still fumbling around in her purse. 

 "Oh, yeah?" Marissa asks. "How is Seth doing?"

 "Fine," Anna reports. "He's great, as a matter of fact. Astonishingly cheerful." 

 "Well," Marissa replies, finally pulling the key from her purse and replacing the purse over her shoulder, "Seth has been waiting for this day since he was, like, how old?"

 "Ten, I think he said."

 Marissa laughs. "Yeah." She slides the card that is the key into the lock, and after a few attempts, the lights flash green, and Marissa pushes the door open. Anna follows her inside. 

 The room is a total mess—that is the first thing that strikes Anna. There are eight empty pizza boxes lying around, and countless pieces of clothing draped over furniture. There are two-liter soda bottles on a table that have been set up in a pyramid shape, with a few full ones that have yet to be drunk sitting on the windowsill. And that's not to mention all the miscellaneous cosmetics and hair accessories scattered on the floor, and on chairs and tables. When Anna looks past the mess, she spots Summer in the midst of what seems to be a sleepover on speed. She is wearing a lavender satin robe over white lace lingerie and is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. There are women surrounding her, some sitting on chairs, some on pillows at her kitten-heeled feet. Everyone looks up at Marissa and Anna as they enter the room. 

 "I come with hairspray," Marissa announces cheerfully. "And Anna." 

 Summer beams. "Hi!" she says brightly. She seems to be in a much better mood than the night before. 

 Anna decides to take advantage of this. "Hi," she responds. 

 Marissa moves around the room, dragging the bed until it stops just behind Summer's chair. "Um, Anna, do you know everyone?"

  "Probably not," Summer says, handing Marissa a brush from her lap and tossing her hair. "Anna, sit down somewhere." 

  "Here," a blonde girl who has Marissa's long legs and cheekbones rises from her chair. "You sit here. I was going to move anyway." 

  "Anna, that's my sister Kaitlin," Marissa says. She certainly is talkative today and it is strange. The blonde girl smiles and nods before crossing the room to sit next to her sister. Anna slowly lowers herself into Kaitlin's seat. "And that's my mother," she points to a severe-looking red haired woman sitting primly on a chaise lounge and flipping through a magazine. Julie Cooper looks up, raises her eyebrow, and looks back to the magazine. Marissa, unperturbed, continues, introducing Anna to Flora, Nina, and Mirabelle. The last girl in the room looks vaguely familiar, and when Marissa says, "And that's Theresa," it clicks. 

 "Oh!" Anna exclaims, excited to be introduced to someone she already knows. "You're Ryan's friend, right?"

 "Right," Theresa smiles. She appears to be the only one in the room who is already dressed for the wedding, in a mint green silk halter dress. She's barefoot, however, and her hair is tangled. 

 "I met you the night I left," Anna says softly. 

 Theresa nods, still smiling, but her smile is smaller. 

 Marissa, who is slowly running the brush through Summer's dark hair, quickly changes the subject. "So, Summer, Anna was just having breakfast with your husband."

 "He's not my husband," Summer is quick to correct.

 "He will be in, like, two hours," Kaitlin says. 

 Summer pales. "Seriously?!" she cries. "There are only two hours left?"

 Kaitlin recoils. "Well, no," she says. "More like four. I was just saying."

 "That is still so weird," Marissa says. "Seth Cohen as someone's husband."

 "What's weirder is Summer Roberts as someone's wife," Theresa adds wryly. 

 Summer flushes a little and sticks her tongue out at Theresa as the rest of the girls titter lightly. "Well, I figure if _you _can do it, it must not be that hard," she snarks. 

 "Ooh," Theresa mocks, grinning. She turns her attention to Anna. "So, how is our dear Mr. Cohen?"

 Everyone in the room turns to face Anna. "Oh," she says. "He's all right. He was betting Kirsten that he could eat an entire basket of mini-muffins." 

 Summer snickers. "He can't," she says dismissively. 

 "That's what Kirsten said," Anna tells her. 

 Summer smiles and looks down at her lap. "Well, Cohen should know by now that his parents are always right."

**

 Seth is dressed, and he's alone in his hotel room. 

 Ryan has gone to get them some sodas. His parents are in their own hotel room, getting ready. Summer is doing the whole girl thing with Marissa and Anna. 

 He's alone, and he is fine with that. 

 Seth is rarely alone anymore. The way he figures it, Jesus or Moses or whoever decided that sixteen years of being completely alone and hating it was enough to warrant a lifetime of never having to be alone again ever. Seth always has someone to talk to now, someone to watch TV or play video games with, someone to eat with. That's awesome, and he knows it. He doesn't take it for granted (or, at least, he doesn't think he does. He hopes he doesn't) but sometimes he feels crowded. 

 That has proved especially true in these last few days. The days leading up to this day, this party, have been impossibly suffocating. Everyone wants to know his opinion, wants him to come over here and pose for a picture, wants him to sleep, to eat, to breathe more. Which, you know, Seth enjoys. He likes attention, always has. 

 But even so, this silence is nice. It allows him to think. Which Seth doesn't do a lot, so it's understandable that he needs perfect silence to do so. 

 He sits on the edge of his bed, slumped over and looking at the floor. He's got his watch in his hands and he's turning it over and over again without thinking about it. He's thinking about Anna and Summer and wondering if his avoidance of that topic when he was sixteen is finally starting to come back to him. 

 Seth is thinking that he treated Anna wrongly, especially towards the end of their relationship and after, but that isn't a new conclusion. That thought had occurred to him the second she disappeared behind a corner in the airport and he realized he was never going to see her again. He understands that he was confused back then, and that it comes with the shock of the huge amount of attention people had suddenly started paying him, but that is no excuse. Anna is really an incredible person, and he feels bad for his actions towards her, because she definitely didn't deserve the stuff he put her through. 

 But then he thinks about Summer, and his relationship with her, and he's kind of happy that Anna gave up on him. Because Summer is wonderful, and _being _with Summer is even _more _wonderful. Even if it's kinda hard to convince other people of that. But really, once you get past the rage blackouts and the swearing and the sharp nails and the lack of appreciation for all things Marvel, Summer is seriously one of the most amazing people Seth has ever met. She talks sometimes about things (like manicures, Stuart Weitzman, or, like, Johnny Depp or something) that he has no interest whatsoever in, but the way she talks about them, the excitement she gets from just _mentioning _a sale at Neiman Marcus, kind of _makes _those mundane topics interesting to him. Seth has never known anyone (not in real life, anyway) who could do that. 

 Plus, hello, she's, like, the most beautiful person ever. 

 He loves her, he knows that much. That's not the problem.

 This thought surprises even Seth. He drops the watch, hardly noticing the dull 'thunk' sound it makes as it hits the creamy carpeting. 

 There's a problem?

When did a problem show up?

 Seth thinks he has some idea: when Anna showed up in that elevator. 

 He is just about to delve into his feelings or whatever on the manner when the door opens and Ryan enters the room. His navy blue tie is untied and hanging loosely around his neck, and he carries a six-pack of Pepsi bottles. "Hey," he says as he closes the door. "They were out of Mountain Dew at the mini-mart thing, so I got the next best thing." Ryan crosses the room and sets the sodas on the dresser next to the television. He pulls two bottles out of the weird plastic contraption that holds them together, tosses one to Seth, and carries the other to the desk chair he's been sitting in all morning. Ryan leans down to retrieve the remote control and, as he turns on the TV, casts a sidelong glance in Seth's direction. "What's the matter with you?" he asks, turning his attention back to the screen, which is displaying some college coed licking whipped cream off another's stomach. "Is it spring break already?" he adds, mostly to himself, as he changes the channel. 

 Seth shrugs. 

 Noticing the silence, Ryan turns back to Seth. "Seriously, dude, what's wrong? I mean, I know Pepsi's not as good as Mountain Dew, but—"

 "It's not the soda," Seth replies, unscrewing the lid of his as if to prove this point further. "It's…" He pauses, realizing he doesn't quite know what it is. "It's typical…wedding…guy…stuff," he mutters, taking a long drink of soda. 

 Ryan nods blankly and turns to the television screen again, flipping it to some basic cable channel. "It's an eighties movie," he says to himself. "Want to watch it? Eighties movies are good, right?"

 "Except for _Weird Science, _yes," Seth responds. 

 "I liked _Weird Science_," Ryan protests mildly, taking a sip of his own soda and settling back in his chair. "Reminded me of you." 

 Seth is indignant. "Why would I build a girl?" he demands. "I wouldn't build a girl. My mom would totally find out and ship me to a home for, like, mentally disturbed/sexually frustrated kids or something." 

 Ryan shrugs carelessly and stares at the screen, steadily drinking his Pepsi. 

 Seth and Ryan watch in silence for a few minutes, Ryan waiting for Seth to tell him what is wrong and Seth trying to figure out what movie this is.

 "_Some Kind of Wonderful_," Seth says finally.  

 Ryan glances at him. "Huh?" 

 "This movie," Seth responds, watching Mary Stuart Masterson straddle Eric Stolz on a workbench. "It's, uh, _Some Kind of Wonderful_." 

 "You seen it?" Ryan asks, polishing off his first Pepsi. He screws the cap back onto the bottle and tosses it into a wastebasket across the room. 

 "You could say that," Seth says wryly. 

 "Any good?" 

 Seth shrugs casually. "Yeah." 

 "What's it about?" 

 "Well, Ryan, it's the story of a loser—sort of like me, only he can do stuff with cars, and you know what oil does to my skin—who falls in love with the Goddess of High School—kind of like Summer, only Summer's rich and much hotter than Lea Thompson—and she falls back, because, come on, nerds are totally hot, but then he realizes that his best friend is in love with him—remember Thanksgiving? That was fun, wasn't it?—and he's all, 'Oh, my God, what am I gonna do?', you know? Of course you do, you lived it with me. And then, at the end, he picks his best friend." Seth finally pauses. Ryan smirks. "You've seen this movie?" Seth asks.

 "It was Theresa's favorite movie," Ryan replies, standing to get himself another soda. "That and _Clueless._" 

 Seth shakes his head. "You sure she wasn't born in Newport?" 

 Ryan flashes a short smile and throws himself back into his chair. "So, doubting the whole Summer-Anna thing again?" he asks. "Kinda late, don't you think?" 

 "I know," Seth says eagerly, pulling his legs up onto the bed with him and drawing his knees up to his chest. "I thought I was totally over this, but then Anna showed up—" 

 "And it was like she'd never left," Ryan finishes, sipping his Pepsi. "Yeah, been there." 

 "And?" 

 "And what?" 

 "What advice do you have, speaking as someone who _has _been there?"   

 Ryan quirks an eyebrow. "I don't know, Seth. My case was a little bit different than yours. _I _wasn't marrying Marissa." He pauses. "Except me and Marissa weren't going out at the time, but you know what I mean." 

 Seth sighs and rubs his eyes. "I just keep thinking about what things would be like if Anna had stayed in California." 

 "You and Summer would've broken up even _more _times," Ryan supplies. 

 "I would have a vintage T-shirt collection the size of Sacramento." 

 "You would hide in a closet on Thanksgiving." 

 "It's unlikely that I'd own a teacup terrier named Captain Sparkle." 

 "You would never have been to a Christina Aguilera concert."

 "I would most definitely not be getting married today." 

 There is an uncomfortable silence as they both consider this.

**

 "So we're walking on the beach, right?" Summer says excitedly, and someone mutters an affirmative response, so she continues, "And we go to his boat." 

 "The _Summer Breeze_," Anna remembers. 

 Summer beams. "Right! So we get in, and he starts babbling about, like, cake and flowers and how much he loves me and stuff, and I'm totally confused, so I'm all, 'Cohen, what is your problem?' and he says, 'Summer, I need to ask you something.' And I'm like, 'So ask me, you retard.' And then he asked me to marry him, and that was it." 

 "Sounds romantic," Anna says flatly.

 Summer shrugs, catching the sarcasm. "Well, it's Cohen. Ow," she says, turning around to glare at the woman who came in to do her hair. "That hurts. I'm tender headed." 

 "Sorry," the woman mumbles and continues to assemble Summer's updo. 

 Anna leans back in her chair and watches as the hairdresser pins the last section of Summer's dark hair up and sprays the whole thing liberally with hairspray. It's pretty, that's for sure, but the hair is nothing compared to the dress that Julie Cooper and Kirsten wheeled in a few minutes ago. Anna thinks of the dress now because Summer is rising from her chair and untying the sash on her robe so she can step into it. 

The wedding is in an hour and a half, and Summer is flustered beyond belief but trying to hide it by complaining a lot and talking fast. But her cheeks are clownishly red and her eyes are darting around the room and she's trembling—subtly—from head to foot. 

 It is just Kirsten, Marissa, Theresa, and Anna left in the room now that the hairdresser has left. Anna tried to leave about forty-five minutes ago, but Summer had told her in so many words that if Anna left, she would kill her and chop her body into several tiny pieces. 

 And you never doubt Summer because she's a lot of things, but dishonest is hardly one of them.

 Marissa and Kirsten hold the dress up as Summer steps into it. She keeps her balance by resting her hands on either woman's shoulders. The diamond on her left ring finger flashes as Summer lowers that hand from Kirsten's shoulder and rights herself. 

 Once the dress is in the right place, Marissa kneels down behind her best friend and begins to do up the pearly white buttons that go all the way from the waistline of the dress to where the bodice begins, which rests directly beneath Summer's shoulder blades. There is silence in the room as she does this, even from Summer, and Kirsten has to sit down because it is fully hitting her now that this is the woman she is giving her son to, and Anna can only imagine how difficult that is. She wants to go to Kirsten and say something poignant, but Marissa has finished the buttoning and Summer is crossing the room to where Kirsten sits. She crouches down so her head is level with Kirsten's shoulder and she puts her arms around her.

 And now Anna really wants to leave because she feels ridiculously uncomfortable witnessing this, and her eyes flash to Marissa, who has started to cry a little. 

 "So early on, too," Marissa mumbles, fumbling in the pocket of her jacket for something. When her hand reemerges, it is clutching a cellophane wrapped package of tissues. She tears them open and daubs at her eyes, heading towards the bathroom, no doubt to fix her eye makeup.

 Summer rises, blinking furiously, and asks, "Does anyone know where my veil is?" 

 "Oh," Theresa says, leaping up from her spot on the bed and hurrying to the dresser. "I think it's in here…oh, no, just a Bible." She draws herself up again and closes the dresser drawer with her hip. "Marissa," she calls, "where's the veil?"

 Marissa comes out of the bathroom, a crumpled tissue poking out of her fist, an eyeliner pencil in the other hand. "Um," she says, "I don't know. I thought you had it, Kirsten." 

 Kirsten sighs. "I did. I forgot. Um, it's in my hotel room, let me just go get it—"

 "No, I can get that for you," Anna says hurriedly, practically jumping from her seat. "I was going to get dressed anyway. Which room is yours?"

**

 Anna emerges from her room some twenty minutes later, dressed in her wedding attire: a gold, off the shoulder Givenchy party dress with a black lace overlay and gold ribbon around the waist and hem with little pearly gold slingback shoes with cutesy bows at the toes. She pushes a strand of her straggly bangs (Theresa can probably trim them for her if she asks, she looks like she has a steady hand) out of her eyes and starts off towards the elevator so she can retrieve Summer's veil from Sandy and Kirsten's room. She does not know why Kirsten would have Summer's veil, but she decides that it's probably best to just do as she is told and not ask questions. 

 Not that there's anyone around right now to direct questions to, but whatever.

 As she pushes the 'down' button on the switchboard, she muses that it's kinda weird how everyone in this circle has their rooms on, like, seven different floors. She doesn't mind or anything. Anna likes elevators. Still, it's weird. You'd think everyone would want to be on at least the same floor. Or within two floors of each other. But no, Sandy and Kirsten's room is on the sixth floor, Marissa's (where the whole getting-ready ritual is taking place) on the eighth, Seth and Summer's room on the eleventh, and Ryan's room on the third. 

 Maybe the hotel is, like, really full or something.

 Anna shrugs to herself as the little bell goes off, announcing their arrival at the sixth floor. She steps out of the elevator and heads in the direction of room 614, which Kirsten says is to the right and all the way down the hall. She is halfway there when she hears someone call her name. 

 "Anna!" 

 Just like that.

 Anna turns around and sees Ryan jogging to catch up with her. His hair is fashionably tousled, and he's wearing his suit. "Hi," he says, stopping in front of her. "Where you headed?" 

 "Sandy and Kirsten's," she replies. "Kirsten left Summer's veil in the room. Summer wants it. I'm getting it." She allows a small smile at her redundancy. 

 Ryan grins back. "Yeah?  I was heading there, too. Seth needs, uh, cufflinks." 

 "Cufflinks," Anna repeats in a low tone for a lack of anything better to say. "Very important, cufflinks."

 "Yeah," Ryan smiles. "You look nice," he adds. 

 Anna ducks her head. "Thanks," she says, blushing even though she knows he's just saying it to be polite, because that's what Ryan does to girls. He's got that whole Prince Charming complex, which Anna imagines would be nice, you know, if you were dating him.  

 They reach the door and Ryan knocks. Sandy opens the door after a few moments. "Hi, guys," he says brightly, moving aside. "Come on in."

 Anna and Ryan enter, and Sandy closes the door behind them. "So, Anna, are you here for the veil?"

 "Yeah, actually."

 Sandy goes to the opposite side of the room and picks up a long white box off the desk. "Here," he says. "It's real heavy."

 "Thanks," Anna says again, taking the box from him. 

 "Ryan, anything you need?"

 "Uh, cufflinks," Ryan responds. "Seth left his at home."

 Anna waits for Ryan to get the cufflinks, and when he does, they say goodbye to Sandy (who still has some getting ready to do) and head to the elevator. 

  "So," Anna says, as Ryan presses the eighth floor button for her, "does Seth need those cufflinks now, or do you want to go gawk at Summer in her wedding dress?"

**

 "Summer," Ryan says, his voice low and _masculine _all of a sudden, "wow."

 Summer beams. "I know!" she shrieks out of excitement, rushing over to hug him. This surprises Anna, but apparently not the other women in the room, who are busy getting themselves ready. From the looks of it, Summer and Ryan have become quite chummy in the…well, ten years that Anna's been gone (okay, that's plausible). Either that, or Summer's just really excited and Ryan's simply too floored at her appearance to protest when she flings her arms around his neck.

 "You look great," Ryan tells her sincerely when they break apart. He still has her wrists in either of his hands, and he twirls Summer once. "I mean, really. Seth is going to die." 

 "It'll be better than the Wonder Woman outfit," Anna says, and Summer flushes, clearly embarrassed at this memory. But this hardly deters her; the next second, she is hopping up and down and telling Ryan about her garter. 

 "And I put it really high up my leg," Summer is saying. "Is that really slutty? Because, like, it's way up there. I just want to see his reaction, you know? But then I'm thinking, what if it gets stuck up there or something and he can't get it, because, hello, it's Cohen and he has no hand-eye coordination, and that'll be gross. It's like, wow, we're getting to, like, second base. Right now. Oh, hi, Dad!"

 "I think that'd be more than second base, actually," Ryan replies, flashing her a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

 "Exactly," Summer says. "And in front of my dad. And Sandy. And Caleb. And just…ew. But it's not like he promised to make an honest woman out of me or anything. Everyone at this wedding totally knows that he deflowered me a _long _time ago."

 Ryan appears suddenly aware that Kirsten is in the bathroom about seven feet away from them, borrowing some of Marissa's makeup and fully listening in on their conversation. "Summer," he says.

 "What does that phrase even mean, anyway?" Summer wonders, completely oblivious to Ryan's gentle prodding. "'Make an honest woman out of me'? I don't really know. I just heard it on _Sex and the City _or something. They say it all the time at weddings, though. Well, you know, on TV shows about weddings." She turns to Anna, who by this point is extremely amused. "Do you know what it means?"

 "Something to do with wearing white, probably," Anna responds, smirking at Ryan, who smirks back.

 "Oh, cool, see, I was right, then," Summer chatters on. "I think I am going to pull the garter down, then. Thanks, Chino." She beams cheekily at him, claps him on the shoulder, and practically skips to the bathroom, where she joins Kirsten at the mirror and starts to swipe lip gloss on her mouth. 

 Ryan smiles, waves good-bye to Kirsten, and opens the door. Anna follows him out. 

 "She still calls you Chino?" she asks.

 Ryan grins. "Seth is convinced it's her way of showing affection, those weird nicknames. She still calls him Cohen."

 "Has it occurred to her that she's going to be a Cohen after today?" 

 "Seth has been telling her that since the day he proposed to her. She says that she's going to be a _Roberts-Cohen_ though, so it won't count."

 "With the hyphen?" Anna winces.

 Ryan smiles at her. "Yeah." 

**

 The time of the wedding is getting wicked close. 

 Seth knows this and it is seriously starting to freak him out. 

 Is this what a panic attack feels like? Because he's never had one before—the whole stuck inside the elevator thing doesn't count because that was a side effect of the claustrophobia—but he's pretty sure that's where the total, incapacitating breathlessness comes from. And the 'oh-my-God-I-am-so-gonna-throw-up' feeling. 

 He wonders if this is normal. Like, do all grooms feel this way? Probably. Seth has read about and met some real commitment-phobes (hello, Ryan), but he has never actually considered himself one of them. In fact, Seth has been pro-commitment since the third day of fifth grade when he came home, threw his backpack on the kitchen table, chewed on a cookie, and casually announced to his mom that he was in love with Summer Roberts and was going to marry her. 

When did all that come undone? 

And again, Seth knows the answer to that question, because it's the same answer as before. It's also possibly the same question. 

Seth has a redundancy problem.

But that's not the point.

The point is he has to be down in the hotel ballroom in forty-five minutes to wait for Summer to come down the aisle, and he's seriously starting to wonder if he's going to end up like Julia Roberts in that one movie—you know, the one where she takes off right in the middle of her own wedding, like, eight different times. The movie sucks, but it's definitely starting to give him some ideas.

_Stop it, _Seth tells himself. He knows he doesn't really want to run out on Summer (she could totally jump him and _make _him go through with the wedding if he tried), because that is a totally lame and low thing to do, but there's Anna. 

 Anna, who still likes everything he does. 

 Anna, who laughs at his jokes. Well, Summer does that too, but only in private. She says she doesn't want to encourage him in public.

 Anna, who is…well, she's Anna, and there's no getting around that. 

 Seth kind of wishes that Anna were here right now to talk some sense into him, because she was always so good at that, and he knows that she would tell him to avoid a rage blackout and get married, for the love of God. Except Anna wouldn't say 'for the love of God' because Seth seems to remember her saying that she was an atheist. Not that that matters or anything. Because religion is a choice, just like a buffet. A breakfast buffet, because those are the best kind. Like, say oatmeal represents Christianity and eggs represent Judaism and pancakes are Catholicism and then you've got your waffles, and your waffles are atheism (how come you have to capitalize all the other religions, but not atheism? Is it because atheism isn't really a religion, but, like, anti-religion? If so, then Seth is fairly sure that is discrimination). Who is Seth to tell Anna that she can't have waffles? Moreover, who is Seth to tell her that she can only have eggs or oatmeal? Even if eggs have all that protein and oatmeal sticks with you all day, and waffles are just, like, stacks upon stacks of carbohydrates and starch, and thanks to Dr. Atkins, everyone knows that's bad for you and makes you fat. Not that Anna's fat. 

 Even in his _head _Seth rambles. 

 He combs his fingers through his hair and sighs loudly, even though there's no one in the room to hear it. He cannot believe he is even _thinking _about this. If his fourteen or fifteen-year-old self could hear him now, he would have his ass kicked. Well, actually, that's probably not true, because Seth remembers himself at fourteen, and he's been in a few fights since then. 

 Twenty-six-year-old Seth could _totally _take fourteen-year-old Seth. 

 Seth smiles at that and suddenly remembers an episode of _Friends. _Now, Seth doesn't usually like to bring up his liking for _Friends, _because it was awfully commercialized during its run, and Seth Cohen doesn't like to associate himself with anything commercialized, but in this case, he thinks Ross and Chandler and Joey can help him. 

 Now _there's _a sentence he thought he'd never say.

 Anyway, on this one episode of _Friends, _Ross made a list comparing his current girlfriend—Seth couldn't remember her name, and that didn't matter, because Ross didn't pick her anyway—to Rachel. You know, contrasting their occupations, their unattractive features, that sort of thing. Then they printed it up on Chandler's state of the art (circa 1997) computer, and the whole thing exploded—but Seth isn't going to do that part. He is just going to make a list.

 For purely scientific purposes, of course.

 Seth rolls over on the bed, probably mussing his hair, so as to reach the end table. By the telephone, there is a pad of hotel stationery and a Bic ballpoint pen with the hotel logo superimposed on it. Seth picks up these things, grabs the last Pepsi from the dresser, and heads to the desk at the other end of the room. Once there, he sets the paper, pen, and soda down and draws up a chair. 

 "Okay," he mumbles to himself, drawing a line down the middle of the page. On the left side he writes 'Summer' and on the right side he writes 'Anna'. "Okay…jobs first. Something easy, something thought provoking." 

 Summer is a buyer for Versace, which she loves because of the discount and her advantage over all the other Newpsies who had to wait a few months before they got to see the collections, but she sort of _made _the collections. Seth scrawls: "Buyer. Picks clothes for stores." 

 Anna owns her own comic book shop, which Seth thinks is quite possibly the coolest thing ever. She was in London procuring some rare comic books, she tells him. He writes under her name: "Comic book shop. 35% discount a major plus…."

**

 Ryan knocks on the door to Seth's room. "Seth, it's time to go downstairs." 

 Seth comes to the door, his face pale. "Okay, Ryan, you need to take a look at this." 

 Ryan regards his friend warily but steps into the hotel room and closes the door behind him. Seth scurries over to the desk and snatches up a few pages of hotel stationery. "Seth, what are you doing?"

 "Just look at these," Seth insists, handing Ryan the papers. "Look at them, and tell me what you think." 

 Ryan raises an eyebrow but complies. "Wait," he says, looking up. "Are you _comparing _Anna and Summer?!"

 "It was driving me insane, Ryan, I had to!" 

 "You need medication," Ryan says, shaking his head. "I think you have OCD." 

 "So? What do you think?!" 

 Ryan shakes his head again. "No," he says. "No, you are marrying Summer. Right now. She's going to be down there, and—" 

 "But Ryan, what if I'm making a mistake?" Seth breaks in, and he really does look worried. He kinda looks like he's going to cry, in fact. "What if marrying Summer turns out to be the downfall of my life?" 

 "Seth," Ryan says, gripping Seth by the shoulder, "you overanalyze things. You always have. _Especially _when you're nervous. Now listen—you had a good thing with Anna, we all know that. But were you happy?" 

 Seth considers this.

 "You weren't, not really," Ryan answers for him. "Seth, I haven't known you that long—" 

 "Ten years is a pretty long time."

 "—but I've never seen you as happy as you are with Summer," Ryan finishes, ignoring his comment. "Do you wanna lose that?"

**

 Seth stands at the altar, Ryan beside him, grinning self-importantly. He loves to be right. Admittedly, it doesn't happen very much, so when it does, Seth lets him bask in his own glory. 

 Marissa comes down the aisle, wearing the dress she and Summer argued over for ages: it's orange, and Marissa says orange washes her out, but Summer wanted her wedding to be bright and colorful and festive, so Marissa eventually relented. She looks fine, not at all washed out. Not that Seth can tell when someone looks washed out or not, but still. 

 That 'Here Comes the Bride' song begins, and Seth swears his heart has stopped. He can't really breathe for the anticipation, and he can't take his eyes off the doors that she's supposed to come through.

 And there she is. Oh, my God. 

 Her dad has his arm looped through hers, and she carries a bouquet of dark red roses. She's beaming at him as she comes towards him. He has never seen her look more beautiful than she does now, and that is certainly saying something. She's wearing the diamond drop earrings he bought her for Christmas last year and shimmery white eyeshadow. Her dress is sleeveless, soft white silk, with intricate beading and a trumpeted skirt. It's Badgley Mischka, which apparently means something, although Seth doesn't know what. All he knows is that Summer has been babbling for a month about this Badgley Mischka dress and how wonderful it is.

 Seth would like to personally thank Badgley Mischka someday. 

 Summer joins him at the aisle and he grips her hands in either one of his. She smiles at him and he smiles back. He can't stop smiling.

 Seth can't help but think, as the officiator starts to talk, that maybe marrying Summer _is _a mistake. Maybe it's the best thing he's ever done. He can't be sure.

 And he kind of likes that feeling of not knowing.

 It sure makes the future seem a lot more exciting.

**

A/N: Yay, it's done. And most noticeably, _not _a Seth/Anna. 

Disclaimer: All characters and entities belong to Fox and the genius that is Josh Schwartz. _Weird Science _belongs to John Hughes, who is also a genius. I'm not sure who wrote _Some Kind of Wonderful, _and am too lazy to look it up. I think it might've been John Hughes, but somehow, I don't think so. If you haven't seen it, you definitely should. It completely echoes the whole Seth/Anna/Summer situation, which Anna realizes in "The Telenovela". Sort of. You don't think she just _happened _to mention it, did you?


End file.
